


For Just One Day Let's Only Think About Love

by ArrowOvis



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, F/F, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-06-18 19:18:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15492861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrowOvis/pseuds/ArrowOvis
Summary: Curious, isn’t it. The way that the simplest decisions can overturn entire lives. Take over them, change them, and divert them from what was once a clear, straight-running path. For Weiss Schnee, that decision was to get coffee 30 minutes earlier than usual at her typical café.In which Weiss is a permanent third wheel in Vale, and Ruby is a returning soldier with a slightly mysterious past.[on indefinite hiatus]





	1. Curious

Curious, isn’t it. The way that the simplest decisions can overturn entire lives. Take over them, change them, and divert from what was once a clear, straight-running path. For Weiss Schnee, that decision was to get coffee 30 minutes earlier than usual at her friends’ café.

\--

_“Wow you’re pretty.”_

Weiss startles and looks up from her phone. Before her stands an unfamiliar girl with both hands over her mouth. A mouth that had just…complimented her?

(It’s way too early in the morning to deal with other human beings.)

Quickly scanning her eyes over this new…person, the heiress catalogues heavy black combat boots with red and white marker etchings, well-worn ripped jeggings and a puffy red jacket zipped up to the neck, along with long black hair framing a round face with the most captivating silver eyes. Weiss blinks once, twice. She has never seen eyes like those before, nor even that colour before, and that was an impressive feat considering her position as heiress to and scientific director of the largest excavator of minerals and ores in the world.

The other person blinked as well, her hands starting to drop down, and Weiss began to internally panic. _Oh no, you’ve been staring at her for too long – say something, you dolt_ – “you’re not too bad yourself.”

_Note to self: strangle Neptune later for making you watch that romantic comedy._

_Other note to self: red is a really good colour on her_.

Following Weiss’ comment, the strange girl stammers and hides her mouth again, but the edges of her blush still peek out over the top of her hands. Weiss can feel warmth creeping into her face as well, at which point the German chooses to make like an ostrich and resolutely look down at her phone while stomping past the girl towards the front counter. Somewhere between the fifth and tenth stomp (timed perfectly with her mentally calling herself an idiot, of course), she hears the jangle of those now hated bells behind her. Finally daring to look up, Weiss sees a familiar set of yellow and black metal fingers drumming against the wooden table top, and the heiress knew that if she deigned to look up any further, she would see the smirking face of one entirely too amused blonde.

“Y’know Weiss, if you were any smoother- ““Can it, Yang.”

The oaf in question raises both arms up in submission, but still sports that infuriating grin. “Woah, Snow Princess, I know you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, but there’s no need to get all _Schnee-_ ffy with me.” A mocha brown hand lands on Yang’s shoulder, the silver ring on its fourth finger glinting slightly in the light. Weiss spares a small smile for her other best friend (and arguably the reason why she hadn’t murdered the first); Blake Belladonna, owner of this fine establishment.

“Black coffee with one shot of raspberry mocha?” Blake asks, arching one eyebrow up to accompany the lilting tones of her question. Weiss sighs and mouths “yes, please” in reply, glad that her morning routine was finally back on schedule. Blake nods in acknowledgement, the corners of her eyes crinkling slightly, before turning on her heel and pinching her fiancée’s side hard enough to make Yang yelp.

“Finish opening up the shop,” Blake hisses. Yang pouts slightly, but the blow to her pride is lessened by the kiss that the black-haired woman leaves on her cheek before padding away to make Weiss’ order, her typical love-struck expression returning and curling up her lips.

Weiss rolls her eyes affectionately at the scene, moving away from the distracted barista to examine the baked goods along the front shelf. After spending four years as university roommates with the Moroccan, and thus three as the witness to the pair’s stumbling courtship, followed by another five as they navigated independence and adulthood together, the German was well-used to Yang and Blake’s antics. She even enjoyed them, to some extent. They were a constant reminder that…some things, didn’t change.

“Sooo, what brings you here so early for once?” Yang drawls, half-peering at Weiss while she herself squats behind the glass counter, hands busy adding more pastries to the same display that the white-haired girl had been admiring. “I mean, I’m not complaining about the added company, but I can usually set my clock by you.”

Weiss flicks her gaze upwards, seeing the genuine concern hidden in the furrow between Yang’s eyes. Reasonable. Anyone who spent more than half a day with Weiss Schnee, or had the pleasure of working in the same tangent of industry as her, knew of the businesswoman’s penchant for punctuality and routine.

Her days always started the same way, she always ordered the same thing at the same restaurants and cafes, and she actually cycled through the same ten different white with blue or black-trimmed outfits to get through most weeks. Even now, she was just looking through the pastries as a formality – she already knew that she would not order anything from the shelf, and would just collect her coffee and savour it alone, maybe returning later in the day to get her evening tea fix and chat with her old friends for a while as the crowd died down.

So had been her practice for the past three years. It was familiar, it was safe, and it was a source of comfort in the tumultuous world that only her best friends knew she lived in.

And the last time she had deviated from her routine…

Well, Yang had a right to be concerned.

Weiss gave Yang a reassuring smile, standing up to walk with the other woman back to the cashier spot, Yang now tearing open new packets of coins to fill the till. “I just felt like today was a good day to…branch out.” Yang paused in her movements, relief evident in her lilac eyes, before her expression morphed into the more typical teasing one. “Is that why you were flirting with my little sister this morning?”

Weiss flushed, and it was only thanks to years of public speaking that she did not splutter in embarrassment. Placing her hands on her hips, Weiss leaned herself forward aggressively, “first off, Yang Xiao Long, I was returning a compliment, not flirting. Second of all,” Weiss blinked, finally processing the full implications of the blonde’s statement. She went slack-jawed and turns around to face the closed door despite herself “-that was Ruby Rose?”

Yang laughs, shutting the till with a hip-check before spinning around just in time to take Weiss’ coffee from Blake’s hands. Sliding the mug over to her subtly dumbstruck friend, Yang straightened her apron and nodded. “What threw you off? The black hair, the silver eyes, or the fact that you didn’t have to look that far up to see someone’s face for once?” Weiss threw Yang a dirty look, not appreciating short jokes at any hour. She harrumphed and crossed her arms, her next statement coming out more tartly than intended.

“I thought she was in Afghanistan?”

Weiss knew quite a lot about the famed Ruby Rose. Half-sister to Yang Xiao Long through their father, and younger than Yang by two years and Weiss by one, she was a mechanics prodigy who had signed on with the army to help with humanitarian missions in this time of peace. She travelled from one war-torn country to the next, lending her technical support to relief troops and medical teams as they tried to rebuild towns and save the wounded.

Weiss had never met the supposedly cookie-obsessed girl, but Yang was proud enough of her and her achievements that she felt relatively up to date with wherever Ms Rose was and what she was doing. And knowing Yang, if her beloved sister was coming for a visit, Weiss would have heard about it at least two weeks in advance with a sky-banner equivalent of excited squeals and emojis.

Yang’s smile falters, and Blake wrapped an arm around her fiancée’s waist. Weiss’ posture softens and a pang of guilt shoots through her gut as the metaphorical penny dropped, even before Yang lifted her flesh arm to clutch at the seam where her right transformed into the prosthetic. A heavy sigh left the fighter’s mouth before she next spoke.

“She was.”

Silence stretched between the trio – Weiss and Blake waiting for the obviously affected blonde to gather her thoughts before she said any more. If she said any more. A quick glance at Blake’s pensive expression reveals that the café owner is none the wiser as to Ms Rose’s sudden arrival either. Knowing the brown-skinned woman, she was probably bursting at the seams with questions as well. It was a testament how distressed Yang truly was that the curious cat was holding her tongue to let her partner breathe.

Morose eyes closed, and Yang visibly shakes herself out of her state before straightening up, but placing one hand on Blake’s elbow as a grounding rod as she continued.

“I…don’t know the full details myself. I just got a call from Dad a couple of nights ago saying that Ruby was discharged and was coming to stay in Vale for a while. And that I should let Ruby tell me her story in her own time. But,” the fighter bites her lip and turned to Blake, lilac meeting amber as she says her next words, “my little sister’s hurt, and I don’t know how or by who. And she’s here. I want to help her.”

“We both will, honey.” Blake raised a hand to brush her fingers against Yang’s cheek “Your family’s mine too.” Yang rests her forehead against the shorter woman’s and they share a moment of quiet peace.

Weiss stood just a few feet away from them, not distant physically, but she could feel the emotional chasm stretching between her and the entangled pair. A strange set of emotions swirls around her chest. There was sympathy of course. For whatever unknown harm had befallen Ruby Rose and made the high-flying girl retreat home. But, looking at her two best friends from so far away, and feeling the empty space between her own fingers… She was used to Blake and Yang. She didn’t mind being their constant and favourite third wheel. It was normal, it was routine. But at the same time, it was…

“I will too.”

Blake and Yang opened their eyes and turned to look at Weiss quizzically in unison. Weiss was surprised to hear her own voice as well, but she quickly recovered and gave her best friends what she hoped was a convincing smile.

She took a step forward and raised the coffee mug to her lips, taking a sip before speaking. “No matter the reason why she’s here or why she left the army, Ruby Rose is here now, and that’s what matters. And I highly doubt that she would want to spend her first proper day in Vale surrounded by a bunch of moving boxes. So, I suggest” another sip, _damn that Belladonna brew is phenomenal_ , “that we give her a proper welcome and invite her out for dinner tonight.”

The black and yellow pair stare at Weiss for a beat, before Yang throws her head back and starts guffawing, clutching her stomach as she bent over double trying to catch her breath. Blake was standing still as a statue, and if she were a cat, Weiss could fully imagine a pair of ears swivelling around in confusion at her mate’s sudden display. Finally deciding that Yang was just being Yang, Blake sank against the counter, shooting Weiss a grateful glance.

“Damn…Schnee…” Yang gasped out between gulps of laughter-deprived air, staggering upwards, one hand clutching at the counter-top “you’re a real…buzzkill, and I mean that…in the best…way.” Weiss forces a smirk, and drains the rest of her drink before setting down the mug and lifting her chin authoritatively. “Thank you for your feedback, Ms Xiao Long. I will leave you two to settle the minutiae, I must be off to my proper place of work. I expect to receive word and/or text of my invitation to tonight’s assembly before 5pm, so that I may have adequate time to prepare myself as appropriately.” Blake smiles and tilts the peak of an imaginary cap towards her best friend.

“Duly noted, your majesty.”

Weiss huffed and placed a fifty lien note on the countertop – the coffee was only five lien, and she was fully aware of that, but Blake and Yang were annoying in that they would never let her pay for her drinks. Hence, Weiss would always leave large notes in the hopes that they would one day accept them and let her somewhat begin to repay her debt. But Blake was very good at somehow managing to slip them back into her pockets before she left, while Yang just shoved them gracelessly at her face until Weiss was forced to accept or make a scene in a public coffee shop. It was when the German woman turned to head to the door, and almost immediately felt a crinkling presence in her inner breast pocket that she knew that at least Blake was okay.

Her reassurance that Yang was fine too came as she stepped out into the morning air, the blonde’s parting words sending an extra pulse of warmth through her not due to the sun.

“Hey Weiss, better be pretty again tonight!”


	2. Textbook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one overused quote – remade slightly

“So then Blake says – “why don’t we open up a café? I’ll provide the substance and you’ll provide the style” – and that was when I knew I wanted to be with this girl for the rest of my life.” Yang finishes, pressing a kiss to her fiancée’s temple. Said fiancée was blushing furiously and struggling more feebly than necessary to get out from under the arm slung over her shoulders.

Weiss hides a smile behind the rim of her wine glass. They were catching Yang’s sister up with the happenings that she had missed while overseas, and Yang was being an excellent storyteller, as usual. However, the bulk of Weiss’ interest was actually in the woman sitting beside her in the cosy four person booth.

Ruby Rose was- unexpected, to say the least.

As decided this morning, Yang had accosted her sister with dinner invitations right after Weiss had left, and apparently after much wheedling and threats to do something to a Crescent Rose (Weiss didn’t want to know), the reclusive girl had agreed to meet the three of them for dinner at the Pink Garden, a nearby fusion cuisine diner owned by their good friends Lie Ren and Nora. And from the moment Ms Rose had arrived, Weiss was left at a loss as to what to think about this girl.

On one hand, Weiss could clearly recall the hilarious stories of a shy and socially awkward teenage Ruby, which fell in line with the sudden _compliment_ that she had received this morning from said awkward adult, and the bubbly but sheepish way in which Ms Rose had greeted Blake and Yang upon her late arrival to the party. Over their delightful meal and subsequent drinks, the soldier engaging with her two best friends seemed expectedly excited to learn about their relationship and lives, and there wasn’t a hint about what had caused her to suddenly return home. (Of course, Yang was deliberately not asking, bless her soul.)

On the other, Weiss had also caught the sidelong glances that Ms Rose sent her way. Moments in which those bright silver eyes dimmed into a flat steel. Despite the eager and at times, bizarre, questions Ms Rose fielded her sister and her fiancée, there was a distinct lack of queries coming Weiss’ way. And as far as Weiss knew, Ruby had no reason to be colder to her than towards Blake, the other person at the table with whom this was her first meeting. Yet somehow, she still was and Weiss wasn’t sure why.

But she was determined to find out.

Blake tugged at Yang’s hand, cutting her fiancée off in the middle of her retelling of the subsequent proposal. “Come with me for a moment? Ren and Nora want our opinions on their new kitchen set up.”

Yang nods, and gives a sheepish smile to Ruby and Weiss. “You two okay with being alone for a while?”

Weiss hummed in affirmative, setting down her glass primly and seeing a flash of panicked grey in her peripheral vision. “Of course.”

And thus, the heiress and the soldier were left alone. Weiss gave the other woman a moment to breathe, before turning slightly and catching sight of those mesmerizing eyes for the first proper time that night. She smiled, channelling all of her experience making polite chatter with potential investors and asks, “So, Ms Rose, how are you finding it in Vale?”

The other woman blanched, and sat on her hands as a strange reflex action. “It’s nice!” Ruby Rose squeaks. “Just, well…” One hand came un-trapped to play with her black hair, the wavy tips dyed red. Ms Rose looked away from Weiss, finding great interest in the ornamental napkins on the table. “You can call me Ruby, you know.”

Weiss blinked, and internally cursed her upbringing in etiquette. Of course, that was why Ruby Rose wasn’t talking much to her. Anyone normal wouldn’t be used to being called by their surname in a casual setting, and the girl’s quiet was probably due to a polite hesitance to correct Weiss’ addressing of her as such.

“Of course, my apologies.” Another smile, a bit warmer, _this is a casual setting_ , “how are you finding Vale, Ruby?”

A tinge of colour returns to Ruby’s cheeks, and Weiss again finds herself marvelling at the way red highlights her delicate features. _She looks nothing like Yang, not in the least_.

“Vale is…nice,” Ms Rose releases her other hand now, twining her fingers together to rest on the table. “I haven’t been back here since university, and a lot has changed. I’m looking forward to exploring again once I get everything at my new apartment up and about.” Another nervous side glance. Weiss could feel several questions forming on the tip of her tongue, and forcefully clamped them down. Why was Ms Rose back in Vale? What happened in Afghanistan? Was it safe to talk about any part of her quasi-military life?

“Well, you certainly seem capable enough to do that quickly.” Weiss inclined her head towards Ruby, remembering to crinkle her eyes slightly in a friendly manner. Flicking her gaze downwards, the scientist notes the wide gap between them and shifts sideways a little to close it. With a smidgen of pride, Weiss receives a soft inhale from the black-haired soldier for her efforts – clearly, those books on how to make friends were paying off. Ruby Rose would warm up to her soon enough.

Patience, a kindly moustached man had once told her, was the key to anyone’s soul. So she went in for the kill, giving the girl’s upper arm a friendly touch. “If you ever need a guide who isn’t blonde and loud, I’m usually free in the evenings after work.”

Red flooded Ms Rose’s face again, and the girl gives a startled yelp before jerking back to plaster herself against the wall and babble “I’msorryIthinkyou’rereallycoolandprettybutSpecialistSchneewouldkillmesonope!”

Weiss froze.

“Excuse me?”

Ruby Rose stares at Weiss, and Weiss stares back, and there’s a sense of déjà vu except their roles are this time reversed.

Then, the pieces fall together and her next words come out in a rush, “excuse me?!? Ruby Rose I am trying to be _nice_ to you, not hit on you! But clearly a lack of exposure to people instead of machines has left you _socially inept_ because what kind of an _idiot_ would want to flirt with some mysterious military-discharged kid like _you_!”

“Hey Weissy.” A calm voice pours ice over the heiress’ indignation. Vaguely, from behind, she could feel the pressure of Yang’s gaze, red probably bleeding into her vision. “I’m going to give you about three seconds to take that back before I start breaking fingers.”

In an instant, Weiss recalls every amateur MMA match she had watched Yang compete in with startling clarity – how she twisted arms and crushed noses with minimal effort, and juiced watermelons between her thighs for exhibition afterwards. Just as Weiss was about to speak up in hopes of staving off her imminent death, peals of laughter broke through. All eyes then turned to Ruby Rose, who was at that moment clutching her stomach and looking exactly like how Yang did whenever she had a similar laughing fit.

There were literal tears leaking out from Ms Rose’s ocular orifices, and all Weiss, Blake and Yang could do was gape at the suddenly jovial girl as she busted her gut. Yang reached a hand towards her sister worriedly, but the soldier waved her off, finally catching her breath and using one of the napkins to wipe her face.

“No, no, Yang – whew, wow that felt good – I’m fine. I’m not mad. I _have_ spent more time around machines than people for the past few months. I just,” a shy smile, directed at Weiss, “I guess I’m still embarrassed about what I said to you this morning and started seeing things that weren’t there.

“Honestly,” Ruby Rose looks down, and then her face changes to one of deep sobriety, an expression not seen by the other three since the start of the night. It was not one which Weiss would have expected based on what she knew of Yang’s little sister. “I’m glad you yelled at me. It feels…real.”

Her silver gaze slides past Weiss, and Ruby’s next words come out in a whisper. “Yang, I don’t think you know why I’m here. To be frank…I’m not sure either. But I’m not going to find out if you keep handling me with kid gloves.”

Ruby blinked, and that sad expression on her face was immediately whisked away and the girl found a great interest in the patterned rosewood table and the napkin in her hands. Weiss had a sudden urge to reach out and hug the girl, which was strange because she didn’t hug _anyone_. There are some shuffling sounds, and the pair look up to find that it is just Yang and Blake sliding back into their seats, Yang still shooting Weiss a displeased glare, but overall looking much more docile than before.

The quietest member of their trio then turned to Ruby, giving the first proper response to the soldier’s heartfelt admission.

“Is asking about the army okay?”

“I guess,” Ruby Rose bit her lip, finally putting the unfolded napkin in her lap. “Just…start small?” She runs a hand through her fringe, playing with the wayward ends which stick out of what probably used to be a regulation bob, “if I can’t answer, I’ll say so.”

Blake nods in acknowledgement, and leans back to rest against the cushioned seat. “How do you know Weiss’ sister?”

“Oh, that’s a good one!” And that hyperactive façade is back. “So there was this one time, the Atlas forces were coming down to conduct a training exercise with the troops in Japan, and we just happened to be there help after the Fukishima tsunami and then one of the doctors in my team, who happens to also be my Uncle Qrow, decides to challenge Specialist Schnee to a drinking contest and…”

Just like that, another hour passes smoothly, until one of the Pink Garden’s servers comes by to apologetically inform them that the restaurant will be closing soon. Weiss pays the bill while Ruby and Yang argue over who should do so (“You’re saving up for a wedding!” “You’re technically unemployed!”), giving Blake a raised eyebrow when the Moroccan reaches for her wallet, in reminder of the debt of coffees that the white-haired woman owes their café. The proprietor shrugs in submission, her own raised eyebrow in return promising extra vengeance in hospitality the next time Weiss comes by and tries to pay a large note.

The heiress manages to also collect and walk back with all four of their coats before the siblings realise what had transpired, and Ruby blushes furiously while Yang splutters in indignation. (“We know you’re rich, Weiss, but we’re not _poor_.”) The four of them walk out to the carpark, and Blake and Yang bid the other two goodbye, with the blonde hugging the soul out of Ruby and bemoaning how much she already missed her, before the pair get onto Yang’s beloved motorcycle Bumblebee and ride off.

Weiss turns to Ruby, a much more controlled farewell on her lips, but it disappears as she notices the return of the soldier’s withdrawn posture, arms limp at her side and fringe falling into her eyes. The white haired woman reaches out to touch her shoulder but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing her hand to clutch at her purse strap.

“Are you…okay, Ms Rose?”

Ruby twitches, and like a light switch, Weiss sees that annoying happy curtain come over her acquaintance. “Yeah,” Ruby smiles, teeth showing in a smile that is too big, too bright, “just tired from an enjoyable night.”

Weiss recognises that smile. She sees it in the mirror almost every day. And she’d be damned if she let another person go through that alone. “Ruby,” a hand, softly touching her shoulder, “you’re a dolt.”

…

 _That didn’t come out right_.

“Wait, I mean- I meant- what I meant to say was - _Ruby Rose stop laughing at me this instant!_ ”

(What was it with Xiao Long-Roses and their uncontrollable laughing fits? Seriously, it was a choking hazard and an obvious genetic defect. If one spent that much time doubled over and suffering from self-induced asphyxia, the resultant cerebral ischaemia would definitely have some long-term neurological effects. It was something that she would have to consider when contemplating why Yang was a veritable fountain of god-awful puns.)

Arms folded across her chest and one foot tapping impatiently, Weiss glowered at the younger girl. “If this is what I get for trying to show some concern for you, clearly I should reconsider how I dole out my emotions.”

Ruby freezes, and the mask comes on again. “Weiss, stop. Thank you but I don’t want to be a bother-“

“No.” Ruby goes cross-eyed, staring at the indignant finger suddenly shoved into her face. “Now you listen to me Ruby Rose. I may have only known you properly for less than four hours but I’ll be damned if I let you play this game of lone wolf and trying to pretend to be okay. You don’t want to talk now? Fine. You deserve to decide when you want to revisit your pain. But,” Weiss chooses this moment to step right into Ruby’s space, snarling her last words, “don’t you dare think that you have nobody that cares enough about you to see past this stupid fake cheer that you put on.”

There is a tense silence after that, and once Weiss cools down, she realises belatedly that she may have overstepped her bounds. They’d only just met, after all, on what grounds did she have the right to demand what Ruby Rose should or should not-

Abruptly, Weiss’s brain short circuits. The source: an unexpected assault by the scent of roses, wafting up from the strands of Ruby’s hair, the soft texture of which the businesswoman is becoming extremely intimate with given that owner of said hair is practically shoving her face into it in a miniature version of Yang’s rib-crushing hugs.

“Thank you, Weiss. I think we’re gonna be good friends.”

Thoughts thrown into a loop and already half-high on that delightful smell, Weiss huffs and falls back onto her basal instincts of response once Ruby releases her from that death-grip.

“Good? Only good?” Weiss tosses her hair, letting her side-tail whip gracefully and portray her appropriate displeasure at the term. “Ruby Rose, you had better get ready because I’m going to be the best friend you’re ever going to have.”

Ruby Rose chuckles, silver eyes appearing to have a new (adorable) twinkle in them, though that may have just been the reflection of the overhead lamplights. Weiss flushes, turning on her heel to face the remaining vehicles in the lot. “Now, which one of these death traps is yours? I’ll walk you to it and we can call it a night”

Pin-drop silence.

“You…did drive here right?” Weiss asks, but the sheepish expression on Ruby’s face says it all. The white-haired woman lets out an exasperated groan and throws up her hands, stalking over to her own grey Porsche while airing her grievances. “What were you going to do, take the _bus_ at this time of night? Public transport is teeming with all sorts of low-life and distasteful scumbags at this hour-“

Ruby hurried after Weiss, her slight height advantage just barely helping her keep pace with the infuriated heiress “Hey, I was going to call a taxi-“

“And waste your money on a midnight fare? Please,” Weiss unlocks and practically throws open her passenger door. “Get in.”

Ruby gawps, and makes as if to backpedal away, holding her hands out in front of her defensively. “Weiss, no, you have a really nice car, I can take a taxi, really-“

“Do you want me to call Yang? Get her to tell me the location of Crescent Rose?” The soldier immediately turns pale as a sheet, whimpering, “no, not that.” Weiss raises one eyebrow and sweeps a hand towards the interior of her car again, and this time Ruby Rose obediently folds into the patented Italian leather. The German sighs and closes the door after her, before walking over to the driver’s side and climbing in.

“Address?”

“91 Beacon Street.”

Weiss hums in acknowledgement as she reverses out of the lot, noting with a detached interest that the younger woman stayed only one block away from herself. They spend the next few minutes in a comfortable silence, Weiss keeping her focus on the road as Ruby slowly unfurls herself, her engineering habits coming through as she begins to study her dashboard and the various controls. Coming to a stop at a red light, the white-haired woman takes the opportunity to flick her gaze to the side, observing as yet another facet of Ruby seems to come alive in the careful way she studies the interior of her vehicle, fingers twitching according to the ebb and flow of the engine’s purr, as if a mechanics maestro.

_Perhaps she would enjoy peeking under the hood one day._

Soon, the pair pull up outside a quaint two-storey apartment building. Its brown cobblestone walls and green slate shingles showing clear signs of age but lending the abode an overall quaint homely charm. The sound of the vehicle doors unlocking snaps Ruby out of her stupor, and the red-haired girl quickly unstraps herself and gets out of her seat, zipping around to Weiss’ side even before she has fully killed the engine. After a minute, they find themselves standing on the winding gravel path leading up to Ruby’s new home, feet metaphorically shuffling as they tried to figure out how to say goodbye.

Ruby tried first. ”Thanks for the ride, Weiss. And the dinner. And the talking after.”

Weiss rolls her eyes. “You weren’t such terrible company yourself.”

Ruby coughs, rubbing the back of her neck nervously, and picks something out of her jacket pocket.

“Well, um. I made you something - to celebrate our new friendship,” Ruby thrusts her open palm out “Ta-da!”

Weiss gasps. For nestled in the centre of Ruby’s palm is one of the Pink Garden’s napkins, now shaped into an intricate white rose. The heiress peers closer at the ornament, marvelling at its careful creases and delicate folds. Gingerly, she takes the flower to cradle in her hands, before tucking it behind one ear as an afterthought. Looking up at Ruby, blue eyes uncharacteristically shy, Weiss whispers, “thank you.”

Red creeps up Ruby’s face again, and Ruby coughs into her palm again, mumbling something that the shorter woman can’t clearly hear. (“Every pretty lady deserves a pretty flower.”) Still, Weiss smiles softly, and inclines her head towards Ruby in a small bow.

“Goodnight, Ruby. I’ll see you again?”

Ruby pauses, then nods enthusiastically. “Er, um- yeah! I’ll get your number from Yang or something. Maybe take you up on your offer of a tour.”

“Okay,” Weiss gives her new friend a small wave. “Goodnight, Ruby.”

“Goodnight, Weiss.”

Tucked back into her car, Weiss waits till Ruby has entered her building before driving away, all ready to turn in for the night. But as she arrives back at her penthouse, dropping off her shoes at the door, the heiress catches sight of herself in the mirror, and finds herself reaching up one hand to touch the origami piece in her hair. Memories flash behind her irises, of red hair and bright green eyes. Exhaling, Weiss closes her eyes, and moves forward.

 _I won’t let history repeat twice_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spent an age picking at this chapter wondering if it's good enough but decided to bite the bullet and post.  
> Thank you everyone who reviewed and left kudos on the first chapter of this story! I can’t promise that updates will be regular but I’ll try!! Hope this lives up to expectations


	3. Veni, Vidi, Vici

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look from the other side.

_Commander Ozpin is a coffee addict. Most people don’t know that. Ozpin is always calm and collected and exuding this strange slow and peaceful aura and so of course people are surprised when Ruby says that she has never seen him drink anything else. It’s one of her favourite things to spring onto the new recruits. They always study Ozpin intently over the next few days, trying to see if their senior engineer’s words are true._

_Maybe that’s why when Ruby wakes up and sees her officer in charge sipping orange juice, she thinks she’s hallucinating._

_“Good morning, Ruby. How are you feeling?”_

_To be honest, Ruby feels like crap. For some reason her entire left side feels like it has pins and needles and her thigh aches. She doesn’t remember everything, just flashes of hospital walls, talks about surgery and an airship. Not why she is (or she presumes she is) injured, or when she’d left the camp. She’s probably dreaming._

_So let’s address the focal point of the dream._

_(“…you’re drinking juice.”) The sentence actually probably comes out a bit more like “yuh dre-king ju”, but if all of this is just in her mind, Ruby figures that it doesn’t matter what the words sound like. The slurring is similar to the fake Western accents that Ruby and Yang would put on as kids, horsing around and pretending to be horses in alternate._

_Her head hurts, and her mouth feels like someone stuffed cotton balls into it, but Ozpin smiles._

_“Yes, why it appears that I am.”_

_The black vest-ed man sets down his glass (another sign that this isn’t real – Ozpin always wears a green coat with his grey camo pants beneath, even within the hot and stuffy command tents Ruby has never seen him take that coat off) and leans forward, placing a hand on her bedrail._

_“Do you know what happened?”_

_If her throat wasn’t hurting so much, Ruby would have laughed. Her subconscious was very literal in introspection. But…the question makes her realise that there is something there, past the fog clouding her mind. Ruby closes her eyes – she might as well humour herself. She…she sees smoke. Loud voices, shouting. Boots and slippers slapping against dirt-baked ground. She remembers her head lolling to one side. She sees her hand._

_It’s red._

That’s not her blood.

_She screams._

* * *

 

Ruby shoots upright, her heart pounding and her night clothes stuck to her skin with sweat. Well, to the parts of her skin that can sweat. The ex-soldier takes a moment to gulp air into her starving lungs, before she starts peeling off fabric and moving her blankets to check if she’d opened any wounds.

It’s been a month since the accident. Her skin grafts had technically healed by the time she was discharged, but the doctors said that she should still take care because the burnt and broken skin would never be as strong as what it used to be.

That phrase…was an apt description for her mind as well. Though the brain wasn’t an organ that one could as easily replace.

Satisfied that she hadn’t pulled out any of her fading stitches nor scratched open the fragile skin, the twenty-six year old sank back onto her pillows, not needing to see the clock probably still packed in a box somewhere to know that it was way too early to be this awake.

_Still having nightmares, huh, Ruby._

Said woman groans at the voice in her head. Well, not the voice. Her voice. Because if it was in her head, she was talking to herself, or thinking to herself, and she is not a “the” but a “her” and she really didn’t know why she kept thinking about her own voice in her head in third-person or why this irritating train of thoughts was streaming through her consciousness at ass-crack o’clock.

Not talking to anyone for a week could do that.

_Almost a week._

_Dammit, I did it again._

Resigned to her fate, Ruby lets her now active mind wander to the events of yesterday. Arriving in Vale, the town where her sister had gone to university. That embarrassing moment of calling her sister’s best friend pretty. Stuttering a quiet apology before beating a hasty retreat. Registering herself with the veteran’s office. Moving boxes into her new home. Ignoring messages from Uncle Qrow. Getting dragged out to dinner by Yang.

Getting lost in sapphire eyes, their beauty only highlighted by a thin white scar bisecting the left.

Ruby slapped her hands over her face, now definitely thoroughly awake. She should do something. Something more than lie in bed. Unpack her things, maybe. Get her medical appointments in order. Find a new job, or at least a hobby. Something aside from being in a position where her thoughts and memories could consume her at any second.

However…similar to how it’s been for the past few weeks, it’s difficult to find the energy.

Closing her eyes, the ex-soldier focuses on her breathing. _In. Out. In. Do things step by step, just like how Qrow taught you._ First things first – sit up. Next, one leg off the bed. Now, the other leg. Hands on the bedspread. Push down. Stand up. By the time that sequence of movements is done, Ruby is exhausted again, and there’s light shining through her bare windows.

But, it’s something.

Normally, and Ruby hates how this fatigue is normal to her now – though honestly it had been creeping in slowly and insidiously over the years, just that the dam broke last month and now she is broken – this would be the moment where Ruby would consider her duties for the day done and collapse back onto the bed for a hopefully dreamless sleep. Or to wait for the insomniac hours to slowly trickle past. But…she’s in Vale now. Discharged from the forces and her hospital bed to become someone else’s problem, though still on taxpayer money.

And, recalling sharp words, and an insistent tone that didn’t treat her like glass, she feels like trying.

Ruby remembers the disappointed look in Ozpin and Qrow’s eyes when they told her this new plan. “Maybe, a change in environment will help clear your thoughts.” She’d been distantly angry then, angry that she was being carted off against her will. Kind of sad too, because she was leaving the community that had been her home for the past five years. But, mostly, she had been ashamed. Her juniors, and colleagues, who had once looked to her as a source of inspiration and hope, had whispered and brushed her shoulders with pity when it was time for her to leave. Negative emotions, swirling far away under a blanket of grey apathy.

She’s useless, after all. Killed a person in the line of humanitarian work and now jobless at twenty-six years old.

Dragging her heavy feet, Ruby was at least thankful that she didn’t have any visitors or places to go today. It was a frank miracle that she’d managed to act normal for so long with Yang, Blake and Weiss the previous night. Pretend that things are fine. Hazily, she thinks back on the heiress’ words; the narrowed eyes and accusing finger that accompanied them.

_“Don’t you dare think that you have nobody that cares enough about you to see past this stupid fake cheer that you put on.”_

They shouldn’t care. She doesn’t deserve it.

(But goddamn did that feel nice.)

She shouldn’t feel nice. Weiss wouldn’t have said that if she knew. None of them would treat her so nicely if they knew.

Lost in her thoughts, Ruby doesn’t notice the box in front of her till she nearly trips over it. Flinging out her arms to stabilise herself, Ruby windmilled for a moment before she rocked back onto the soles of both feet. Huffing, the soldier waited for blood to start dripping from her toe, or for her injured thigh to ache, or some other thing to get hurt.

Nothing did.

Shoulders slumping, Ruby glanced over the disappointing obstacle before her. A non-descript parcel stamped with Patch’s area code and her dad’s phone number. There were two or three of those lying around – things full of civilian needs that she hasn’t had any use for in the past five years. Sinking to her knees, Ruby tears off the bulging packing tape to uncover what was inside. The box opens with a soft explosion of Styrofoam. Ruby counts it as a win that she only blanks out for a few seconds from that.

Having fallen onto her ass in her panic, the soldier gingerly picks herself up and makes her way towards the box. Clearing away the residual plastic bits, and her shattered pride, Ruby peers into the box, finding only non-threatening cotton and a few kitchen implements. Probably clothes, spare bedsheets and the like. Stuff she needs. Tools for a new life.

Now comes an honest question - does she feel up to unpacking yet? Setting up home here…seems like a step beyond. Moving on, from what happened. Letting go. Being happy. Ruby worries at her bottom lip, the skin there already torn and cracked from her stress-biting over the years. Yang would tell her to get on with it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.

At least, she would if she weren’t so afraid Ruby would break.

Curling her fingers into fists, Ruby exhales slowly and focuses on the feeling of her nails cutting into her palm. Step by step. She counts to ten, then bends her knees and pulls the box to her chest, hugging it while straightening out. She keeps breathing and makes her way back to her new bedroom by memory. When she passes through the doorway, she drops the box unceremoniously, and squeezes her eyes shut.

It still feels wrong, to be changing and growing and having everyone worry and look out for her. It makes her chest ache and her head spin, but if she doesn’t look like she’s doing fine on her own, then people are going to want to help. And she’s received enough help for a lifetime.

There’s a buzz in her pocket, and Ruby takes out her phone to see that she’s received two new messages.

[Yang, 0753]: [Contact: Weiss Cream]

[Yang, 0754]: hey Rubbles, Ice Queen told me to send u her deets – u sure made an impression last night ;)

Furrowing her brow, Ruby tapped on the contact card, opening it up to see a picture of the poised scientist with Yang and Blake draped over her on either side. It’s probably a photo of them from their university days, given the garish yellow varsity wrestling jersey that Yang is sporting. Weiss has a pinched expression on her face, and from the damp shine on her sister’s skin, Ruby guesses that its due to her being affronted by the presence of someone else’s sweat on her obviously expensive clothes. Blake has a barely noticeable smile on her lips as she holds the shoulder of her roommate, amusement and quiet joy radiating off her. They all look happy, actually.

Just the three of them.

Ruby blinks, quickly changing the contact surname before saving it to her phone. Thumb hovering over the message button, Ruby contemplated sending the scientist a simple “hi”. To establish contact. Make friends.

She could do that…tomorrow. She’d already done a lot more than usual today. Progress, in getting back to normal.

Slowly, but surely, she can get the old Ruby Rose back. Shove all these feelings down to where they won’t interfere.

After all, she’s done it once before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so…this chapter is short, and has a lot more exposition and not much plot, and I’m not entirely sure if I pulled off Ruby’s POV well but here goes! Once again, thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos and/or reviewed!


	4. Simmering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's wrong.

“Yang Xiao Long – for the last time, I am NOT attracted towards your sister.” Weiss snaps, resisting the urge to slam the table petulantly like a child. Even though the blonde in front of her was definitely an overgrown one.

Yang laughs. “I believe what I _Schnee_ , Snow Cone, and you are showing an abnormal amount of _interest_ in my little sis.”

Weiss was about three hot seconds from tossing her boiling tea into the barista’s face.

Her actions this morning had been necessary, the scientist knew. The books always said that the most important thing was to be there for the other person, and since she had correctly deduced that Ruby Rose had not in fact, asked Yang for her number, she had taken matters into her own hands. (And had already been teased before her first sip of coffee for that.) That should have been enough. She’d followed the books.

But then she’d spent all day waiting for a message that never came. It had been highly distracting, and that was an additional challenge that she did not need on top of already attending an online conference being simultaneously held in three different languages, needing to meticulously speed read through her accountancy division’s quarterly report and finish sieving through over thirty various new research proposals at work before sundown. To top it all off, today she’d had to fire one of her already very few mechanical engineers for being disruptive. So, the heiress had found herself coming to the Café Bean in the evening seeking some peace and quiet.

And Yang was being a highly annoying barrier towards her achieving that.

Pinching her brow and trying to remember everything she’d read about anger management, Weiss was extremely relieved when she heard the familiar rattle of the café’s shutters closing. Both of them turn towards the doorway, and the white-haired woman doesn’t bother to hide her malicious glee when a washcloth is tossed with pinpoint accuracy into Yang’s face. (She catches it before it can hit though - damn.)

“If you have time to bother Weiss, you have time to clean,” Blake scolds, bringing over a tray of washed utensils with buckets and placing it on the heiress’ table. Which made sense, considering that the café owner had already single-handedly wiped down and flipped the chairs up on every other one.

“Aww, but Blake-y, this is way more fun than doing the dishes,” Yang whines, attempting puppy-dog eyes on a woman who hates canines with a passion. The Moroccan pulls out the chair opposite Weiss, and slides into it with her typical grace. She smiles at the heiress, then fixes Yang with a hard stare. Her fiancée raises up both hands in surrender, “fine, fine – I get it. It’s time for ladies’ night.”

That opening was too easy. “Glad you admit that you’re too barbaric to be a lady,” Weiss quips, reaching for one of the cloths draped over Blake’s wrist and hence missing the proprietor’s disappointed head-shake.

Yang grins, and Weiss curses herself for falling into a trap. “Why of course. I’m actually a queen.” And with a final hair toss, the blonde sashays back to the kitchen, leaving the scientist to stew over her latest loss in their everlasting war of wit.

Blake sighs, and stoically begins polishing the silverware, tossing each fork, knife or spoon into its respective bucket. After a moment, Weiss follows suit. Despite all appearances, and the unlikelihood of a Schnee doing menial labour, the white haired woman doesn’t mind doing this. After all, an hour or so of this mind-numbing chore in silence is just what she needs to calm down.

“She’s right though.”

_Damn it._

Weiss pauses, eyes darting up to look at Blake, who is still calmly cleaning and sitting in a comfortable slouch, as if just making an idle comment about her day. But the precise way in which the café owner holds herself, head tilted just so such that her ear was perfectly aligned to hear whatever Weiss had to say, gave away her intrigue.

Weiss huffs, and throws her spoon into its receptacle with far more force than necessary. “I didn’t know that you engaged in asinine gossip as well.”

Blake raises one eyebrow and beneath the table, Weiss feels a soft boot catch her ankle. “I didn’t think that you would accidentally flirt with Yang’s sister either, but look where we are.” Weiss groans.

(She really was falling into everyone’s jokes today.)

To be frank, Weiss could somewhat see the appeal. Though Ruby Rose and Yang looked as different as night and day, the younger sister also had a physique that spoke of rigorous training and stamina, and the heiress could objectively admit that her heart-shaped face and pretty eyes had the potential to be attractive. But, there was one very obvious problem with that.

“Blake, you and I both know very well that I don’t date.” Weiss hisses, picking up a knife and rubbing at it vigorously, irrationally hoping that she could use the butter-smearing implement to fend off these pointless questions.

Obviously, that only means that the next question is much worse.

“Because of her?”

At the blunt question, Weiss can’t help but laugh coldly. She drops the useless piece of metal, forgoing any pretence of focus. Vaguely, she feels her taped-up heart splinter again, because of course her shitty day would end with a discussion about _her_. About the thing that she hated talking about the most. About what should have been the start of the best period of her life, but had ended so prematurely.

Tendrils of frost creep through her veins and she finds herself retreating into her mode of aggression, as queries about her and the fallen Olympian always cause her to. Thirsting for blood, Weiss smiles, thin-lipped, daring the Moroccan to ask further, to imply something.

She’ll rip her to shreds, just like the rest.

Blake’s amber eyes soften, and she withdraws her foot. “I’m sorry”, Weiss hears Blake say.

By now Weiss has heard a thousand “I’m sorry”s. Meaningless condolences and a way for browbeaten men to beg for the SDC heiress’ good graces. She doesn’t take much stock in them. If those vultures were actually sorry, they would stop bringing it up. But, upon seeing her old friend’s remorseful expression…the heiress deflates, keeping away the biting retort that had been on the tip of her tongue. Sardonicism is a shield she’d forged out of necessity and deployed often. Cut-throat businessmen and curious “journalists” always liked to attempt interrogating the SDC Vale COO about the third most famous, and the most obviously traumatic, thing that has happened with Ms Weiss Schnee. Probably in hopes of catching the scientist off guard. The chance to see the Ice Queen of the corporate world break down.

But this is Blake, and she doesn’t mean ill. So Weiss just leans back to pout, her displeasure restrainedly and passively shown in her refusal to continue helping Blake with her work. The Moroccan’s mouth quirks, and Weiss feels a light kick under the table again before Blake resumes her chore, rapidly re-establishing the steady rhythm of clattering metal. The heiress takes out her phone, and begins idly thumbing through the news, content to sit in this familiar silence.

Well, not before turning the tables.

“Blake, what do _you_ think of Ms Rose?” Weiss asks. The brown-skinned woman appears to think for a while, then shrugs.

“She’s fun. Asks a lot of questions. Good at hiding.”

The white-haired woman crosses her arms, keeping away her device. “Humph, just as I’d thought, you’d noticed that too.”

Blake picks up a spoon and efficiently shakes off some remnant water droplets, letting them scatter carelessly.

“What of it?”

Weiss huffs and sweeps her barely-used drying cloth across the table top to clean up the mess.

“Well, based on my observations, Ms Ruby Rose is withholding copious amounts of information, and such behaviour and/or consequences from the event not mentioned is causing Ms Rose significant distress.” The heiress feels a smidgen of pride, and basks in it for a bit before announcing, “I spoke words with her after you and Yang left, and have decided that I will personally endeavour to aid her in her recovery.”

This, _this_ is what she has studied so much for. Her chance to repent.

Unfortunately, something in her facial expression must be off, because Blake treats her decree with suspicion, putting down the dining implement she had been shining and eyeing her old roommate.

“Weiss…why are you so interested in helping Ruby?”

The heiress sighs. Back to this again.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I help people. I care about the greater good.” It’s mildly flabbergasting that Weiss has to prove that to Blake of all people, after everything that they had discussed in university about the White Fang, the SDC, corporate-social responsibility and humanitarian economics. She really should revisit that chapter on showing emotional support, because there is definitely something that she’d missed if everyone persists in assuming that her actions have an ulterior romantic motive behind them.

Having nothing more to add to her tirade, Weiss grabs at another fork from the dwindling pile and resumes polishing, needing an outlet to productively channel her frustration.

The Moroccan blinks, and slowly moves her own hands as well. Gentle and smooth, like an autumn breeze blowing through the forest. “I know, Weiss. Everyone who can see how you’ve changed the SDC knows.

“But this is…a very personal, sort of thing, to involve yourself so heavily with.”

Weiss snorts, bringing the fork closer to her face to inspect the stubborn spot she’d been scrubbing at more thoroughly (and also to prevent herself from glaring at Blake) “So? This sort of thing needs a personal, yet detached touch. She’s a young adult in her prime, forced out of commission early. She’s obviously once had a strong belief in her abilities which has been shattered completely. And if she continues to keep everything to herself, she’s going to implode and that’s going to crush Yang, you, me and everyone else around her.”

The scientist says it in a matter-of-fact tone, and she guesses that Blake hadn’t considered that angle of reasoning (is that why people keep thinking she is _interested_ in Ruby Rose? Maybe she should get these thoughts down in writing), because the café owner falls quiet, seemingly contemplating her words. While waiting for her old roommate to concur that she is right, Weiss finishes cleaning another few utensils, till only a single one is left. It is this knife that she holds when Blake finally speaks.

“Oh gods - she reminds you of Pyrrha.”

Whipping her head up, eyes blazing at this latest _preposterous_ suggestion, Weiss nearly screeches “What? That’s bullshit-“

Blake continues, her normal laconic demeanour morphed into one of misguided shock. “Pyrrha would have wanted you to move on, Weiss. Not push yourself so hard to help some stranger-“

“What happened to being empathetic, about caring for the people less advantaged-“

“That’s only if you’re helping them as them, not as a stand-in for your dead girlfriend who would tell you that-“

“She should be around to tell me what she wants herself!”

Weiss slams the knife down.

The sound echoes through the empty café, and behind Blake, the heiress sees Yang standing frozen just past the front counter. The blonde’s fists are curled. She’d probably been ready to come to the defence of her fiancée, but after hearing Weiss’ final scream, her posture seems to have slackened. Both her and Blake study Weiss with…pity.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Blake whispers.

Weiss’ vision clouds over, and she grits her teeth as she forces her voice to come out steady. “I know.”

For a few minutes, that’s all there is. The pleasant mood that Weiss had sought to find here utterly ruined, as with her hopes of not ending up thinking about her lover’s suicide three years past.

“Weiss, let me ask you again - why are you so interested in helping Ruby?”

The heiress folds her arms over her chest, and for a moment, imagines that they belong to someone else. Someone kind, someone warm, someone not six feet under the ground.

“It’s not for a reason that’s wrong.”

Boot steps; Yang coming forward. A gentle hand on her upper arm.

“Would you like another cup of tea?”

Weiss feels the warmth of her best friend’s palm, but only allows herself a single tear. “No, I think I should be getting home.”

* * *

Afterwards, as the scientist drives down her wide, deserted street, the midnight moon hung high and thinly cut – she passes by Ruby Rose’s apartment. The lights are still on. Weiss knows that she shouldn’t worry, that this time is different and in no way are Ruby and Pyrrha the same, but…

But the past has a pattern that she doesn’t wish to repeat. Making a snap decision, she pulls her vehicle over and whips out her phone.

[Weiss Schnee, 2330]: Hello Ruby, how are things?

The scientist waits. One minute stretches into two, then into five, and the woman casts a worried glance upwards. The lights are still on.

The message goes unanswered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the stage has been set!  
> (I’m excited for the next chapter y’all)


	5. Mixolydian Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wall break.  
> (buckle up, because this one is a long doozy)

[Weiss Schnee, Tuesday, 2330]: Hello Ruby, how are things?

[Yang, Wednesday, 0012]: check this out! [link]

[Weiss Schnee, Thursday, 1730]: Hello Ruby, would you like some dinner? There is a delightful Italian place down your street.

[Weiss Schnee, Saturday, 0922]: Hello Ruby, my apologies for this sudden request but do you happen to have a cup of sugar I could borrow?

[Weiss Schnee, Sunday, 1954]: Hello Ruby, may I ask if you’re okay? I understand that the previous few messages may have seemed out of the blue.

[Yang, Sunday, 2047]: Rubes, hv u been ignoring Weiss?

[Yang, Monday]: [3 missed calls]

It’s easy, to see the unread notifications on her phone. It’s also easy, to see the concern behind them.

What’s not easy though, is mustering the energy to reply. Replying something later becomes replying tomorrow, and then tomorrow becomes the next day, and the next, and the next, until it’s been a week and Ruby is still sitting alone in her apartment letting her messages accumulate.

The woman in question is currently curled up in her bed. Her empty stomach growls in faint protest, though by now it should know that the most Ruby can give it is water and some dehydrated rations that she’d found at the bottom of her field bag.

Everything is unpacked, at least. In that initial day of vigour, the soldier had managed to do a lot. All of her “new” old clothes have been hung up, the various appliances that her dad had thought to send over were plugged in, and it’s helpful that the apartment already came with its own furniture and TV. She had been intending to message Weiss, or Yang. Really, she had.

But then…she hadn’t. She’s barely even left her bed.

She’s pathetic.

Closing her eyes, Ruby lets herself sink back into the abyss. She’s not even sure what time it is. She doesn’t really care. _Worthless, worthless_ , her mind chimes, taunting her with images of wide green eyes and grasping fingers. Screams of pain, quiet sobbing. The sound of an empty room, no pages rustling.

The universe seems to be counting down to her being gone. She can even hear the ticks – rhythmic blows. One. Two. One. Two.

They’re speeding up.

Then they stop.

 _Guess this is it,_ Ruby muses. More than a decade of fighting and she’s finally going to set things right. Heh, wouldn’t her mother be surprised to see her so soon.

“Ruby?”

There she is now. Though…her voice sounds different from how she remembers.

“Ruuubbbyyyy…”

It sounds almost like…

“ _Ruby!_ ”

Ruby’s eyes snap open, and she’s shocked by the sight of Yang bursting through her bedroom door. Before the ex-soldier can say a word, her big sister is grasping her by the cheeks and turning her this way and that and the quick movement is causing the sensitive skin on her neck to chafe against her rumpled clothes. Weakly, Ruby cries out in pain, and Yang pauses, eyes wide and half-panicked.

“…Ruby?”

Head pounding, the red-haired girl lifts a palm to signal that she’s okay, and uses her other hand to cradle her skull. Suddenly, she’s made aware of the scratchy dryness of her parched throat, and the numb weight of her unused limbs. _Water_. She thinks. She needs water. Focused on that thought, Ruby attempts to roll onto her side, intent on standing up and heading to the kitchen to get some. However, there’s a force pushing down on her shoulders, preventing her from starting the motion. Giving up, Ruby pries open her eyelids again and her vision fills with the face of Yang, deep lines creasing her brow.

_What happened to not making Yang worry anymore?_

Twisting her lips reflexively, Ruby decides that she has to reassure her big sister first before she can tend to her irritating body’s needs.

“Hi Yang, whatcha doing here?” Cue a fake yawn, and stretching her heavy arms overhead, even though the action risks pulling her long-sleeved top up and exposing the burns on her trunk. “I was just taking a nap.”

Yang sighs and stands upright, shaking slightly but a relieved smile on her face. _That should do it._

“Lies.”

The ex-soldier freezes, and Yang peers over her shoulder. In the doorway stands Weiss, again distractingly pretty in her white pantsuit, with the navy-edged jacket left open to reveal a baby blue scooped neck blouse and her slender collarbones exposed. The sight alone would be enough to make the very gay Ruby’s heart stop, but the more terrifying thing is the way the heiress’ eyes are narrowed into ice chips.

Yang looks between her best friend and her baby sister, and shifts to stand by the side of the bed, leaving a direct line of sight between the furious heiress and Ruby. “Weiss, explain.”

The heiress stalks forward, keeping her gaze locked on her target. Ruby feels like she’s back in the barracks as a fresh trainee, knock-kneed and tripping over her own bootstraps. Weiss opens her mouth, ready to scream. The gaping feeling in her chest intensifies.

_This is what I deserve._

Suddenly, Weiss stops.

Ruby blinks, and grows gradually more confused as her sister’s friend appears to soften, her steps now light and ginger. In a low tone, filled with a quiet…something, Weiss speaks.

“Her table is covered in a layer of dust. There are no food wrappers or other trash in the bin. These are letters dated from five days ago and…they were by her door.” The heiress glances down, then up, her blue eyes piercing Ruby’s grey. She takes a breath, and seems almost apologetic as she hammers the final nail into her coffin.

“Those clothes have been slept in for at least two days and the lights here have been continually on for many more.”

The ex-soldier bites her lip, and pulls the blanket up to her chest, wishing she could hide the damning evidence but the scientist has already caught her red-handed. Guiltily, she sneaks a glance towards Yang. Her sister has her hand wrapped around Ruby’s bedframe, grip hard enough that her knuckles have turned white. The soldier turns back. Yang’s angry, and she has every right to be.

“Ruby,” said girl looks up, seeing the kind, open face of her sister’s best friend. Weiss’ expression makes her feel strange things – like crying, like tearing open her skin, like…telling the truth. _I understand_ , Weiss’ expression says. Ruby wants to believe it.

“What happened?”

Instead of speaking, because Ruby knows that once she starts she’s not going to be able to stop and despite Weiss’ sapphire eyes she still has the presence of mind to know that she shouldn’t load all of that onto Yang – Ruby opts for the half-truth and pulls down the collar of her shirt, revealing a patchwork of knotted and puckered skin.

A soft gasp. Whether from Yang or Weiss, Ruby isn’t sure. She’s squeezed her eyes shut, and she only vaguely feels a calloused hand cover hers. Her sister whispers, boisterous voice now lowered to a tentative pitch. “Rubes…I’m gonna take this shirt off you, okay?” Ruby feels tears prick at the corners of her lids, but nods anyways.

Deft fingers make quick work of her buttons, and the ex-soldier feels cool air hit her skin. Her one saving grace is that she’d worn a sports bra to bed, though she highly doubts that her lack of modesty is what Yang and Weiss are currently occupied with.

Ruby knows what she looks like under her shirt – pink and shiny contractures where the heat from the explosion caused flash burns, long rivets of puckered skin where the flying dirt and metal had dug into her, and a fresh scar down the middle of her abdomen where the doctors had to open her up to remove something called an intestinal hematoma. The worst parts, and the most visible parts, meaning over her legs, and partly over her left forearm, have been covered with skin grafts but those patches are few and far between and look grotesque in their own way.

If Ruby were forced to strip off her pants as well, her guests would be greeted by the sight of a large incision and depression over her right thigh. That was where the surgeons had taken a chunk of muscle and skin mesh to cover the fracture in her left leg, and her lower body looked like a Frankenstein exhibit in the making.

At least her face was spared – Ruby didn’t need such an easily visible reminder of her mistakes.

Something wet falls onto her stomach, and the ex-soldier’s sense of self-loathing churns even deeper. Yang sniffs, and gently wraps Ruby in an embrace, though Ruby is too tired to give her anything in return.

“Oh, Ruby…” her big sister murmurs. The red-haired girl exhales and rests her head against Yang’s. It’s the only form of reassurance that she feels up to giving at this point in time.

This didn’t use to be that hard.

The bed sinks, and Ruby cracks open an eye to see Weiss sitting on its edge, gaze trained on the floor while Yang kneels on the mattress and holds Ruby. The soldier feels…relieved, somewhat. That her physical injuries, at least, are out in the open. She shouldn’t show anything more than that though; these she can brush away with enough time, moisturiser and physiotherapy. But, as the scientist looks up at Ruby, the deep blue of her eyes compels the soldier to speak.

“It was a land mine.”

“What?!” Yang jerks back, and Ruby feels the back of her head knock against the bedframe painfully. It’s a useful hurt though. It snaps the red-haired girl out of her cerulean thrall and reminds her to keep the story light and airy as she pushes herself into proper sitting position.

“Yeah haha – silly me stepped too close and set off a mine, so now I’m a Ruby Roast Chicken with a side of burnt knees.” Her sister downright glares and Weiss shoots her an unimpressed look. Well, it was worth a shot.

“Yang, really, it’s not that big a deal. I got too close to a mine and the blast hit me.” _Don’t think about it, don’t think about why you were so close in the first place, don’t think about why the mine went off._ “I can’t run fast or be out in the sun much anymore, so I’ve been sent away to recuperate.” Ruby controls her expression, putting just enough sadness and shame in there to make Yang think that the only reason why she hadn’t explained her arrival before was because of embarrassment. She prays to the gods of Remnant that Yang buys it, because beyond this she really has no ideas, she’s never had to omit this much before.

Help comes from an unexpected quarter.

Weiss clears her throat, quiet but authoritative. Ruby’s sister turns to her best friend, and the heiress folds her hands over her lap. “Perhaps it would be better for you to leave us for a while, Yang?”

Yang immediately tightens her grip, and Ruby hisses. The wrestler startles and finally releases her little sister, standing and holding the seam of her prosthetic with her flesh hand, turning that side away. “Sorry Rubes,” Yang mumbles.

Ruby rubs at the sore spot on her arm. “I’m fine, Yang.”

Yang’s metal fist clenches, and she snarls, “No, you’re not.”

The soldier feels ire coil in her gut.

“Yes. I. Am.”

Yang crosses her arms, and looms over her little sister. “Really, Ruby? You call this – not leaving your house, not answering your messages, not bloody _taking care_ of yourself being-“

“Yang!” Weiss near-shouts, and the blonde woman whips around to bare her teeth at the sharp rebuke. “What?”

The heiress stands and places a hand on Yang’s shoulder. The contrast between Weiss’ dainty fingers and Yang’s scuff-marked biker jacket makes the David and Goliath parallel of the two friends even more apparent. Weiss’ gaze darts back towards Ruby briefly.

“You’re not helping, Yang. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I’m her sister.” Yang spits out. “She’s _family_.”

Weiss flinches, but the brawler doesn’t seem to notice. Bravely, she continues. “I know, Yang. But your usual methods of persuasion aren’t working, and hence I would suggest that we try something,” the scientist pauses, clearly trying to think of an adjective that would be both diplomatic and to the point, “…different.”

There’s some success, Ruby presumes, when her sister doesn’t shrug off the heiress’ hand or try to brain her. Yang is still simmering, but it’s evident that Weiss’ words have broken through. The brawler slumps, and she turns towards her sister again, her next few words gentle. “It’s your call, Ruby.”

The red-haired girl looks into Yang’s swirling violets, then at Weiss’ azure blues. They’re still open; still shining with that unidentifiable emotion that whispers to Ruby that the scientist could be someone who truly did understand, who wouldn’t judge, who would…listen. Ruby looks into her heart, and gives a reply which contains a surprising amount of truth.

“I trust Weiss.”

Yang’s gaze dims, and the corners of her mouth droop ever so slightly, but she nods and steps forward to press a kiss to Ruby’s hair, murmuring softly. “Please, call me later? Or message, at least.” Ruby feels a pressure build up behind her eyes, and curls her fingers into the sheets. “I’ll try.”

And with that, her sister straightens and exits the room. It’s only when she can no longer hear the clomping of Yang’s heavy boot-steps that Ruby feels safe enough to relax her fists, and she sighs, feeling the tension of the last few minutes bleed away. Looking up, intending to thank Weiss, the soldier is first startled by a bunch of patterned cloth being shoved in front of her nose. It’s her shirt.

“We- wearing this might make this conversation more comfortable.” Weiss stutters, and Ruby notices a faint blush blooming across the pale woman’s cheeks. Despite her practically non-existent sense of shame after constantly bunking in 12 woman tents for the past five years, Ruby feels a little flustered as well. Quickly, the red-haired woman takes the proffered garment and mumbles “thanks” before putting it on.

And now, to address the elephant in the room. (Or strongly pretend it doesn’t exist and hope it dies on its own.)

Ruby opens her mouth, then closes it. She must look quite silly, gawping like fish out of water. Which is ironic considering how her life nowadays mostly consist of feeling like drowning, drowning. She doesn’t know where to begin, or if she really wants to, even, now that the adrenaline is slowly leaving her system and the fatigue is once again setting in.

Weiss spares her the decision.

“I- “the scientist pauses, then slides over a crisp envelope, face-down. “I found this, amongst your mail.” Ruby picks it up, and her heart sinks. There’s nothing incriminating on the front, just a professional logo at the top corner which reads “VIH”. But, Ruby supposes that any local, especially one with as much corporate experience as Weiss, would know that the acronym stood for the Vale Institute of Health. The area’s specialist psychiatric hospital.

Ruby swallows the sudden ball in her throat, and steels herself. _Like a band-aid_ , she hears her inner Yang whisper. Swiftly, she tears the envelope open and places the unfolded letter with the bold **Private and Confidential** at its header between her and Weiss, allowing them both to read it at once.

Only a few things jump out at the soldier, and she supposed the same went for Weiss as well. “Referral” and “appointment reschedule”. The implications pretty much spoke for themselves, and the presence of the letter was probably why Weiss knew that there was something that Ruby wasn’t telling Yang.

She still doesn’t want to tell Yang.

“Ruby…what’s going through your mind?” Weiss asks, noticing that the younger woman had curled up, hugging her legs to her chest. Ruby slots her nose between her knee caps, and whispers, “I don’t want Yang to know.”

Something warm lands on her shin, and Ruby instinctively knows that it’s Weiss’ hand, despite the odd place.

“Why?”

Ruby bites her lip. That question leads a trove of unpleasant memories, but it’s a relatively easy one – it’s something that she often thinks about. “Yang… I don’t know how much Yang told you about our family, but my mom died when we were just kids.” The red-haired girl folds into herself even further. “Our dad took it pretty hard, so Yang became my new mom. She settled the food, the taxes, the aid subsidies, and even took a gap year and turned down a scholarship after her GCSEs to get a job so I could keep studying.

“Yang…Yang’s done a lot.”

The woman pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts as decade-old feelings threaten to spill out. Spill out onto this stranger, her sister’s best friend; who gives her limb a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ve never seen Yang cry in front of me before.” Ruby’s admits, and her breath hitches, as her mind brings up that wet droplet that fell onto her stomach. “But I’ve heard her. In the middle of the night, when she thinks I’m asleep. I’ve seen her bandage her hands after washing too many dishes and scrubbing floors. I’ve seen her drop dead tired into bed and lose her friends and-“

Abruptly, the soldier cuts off. She turns away from Weiss as another form of guilt settles in. “Sorry, I’m talking too much, I shouldn’t be telling you this I’ll just- “

“Ruby,” the heiress interjects. There are long fingers, grasping her chin and cheek, and cradling Ruby’s face in a way that was both very awkwardly intimate and…comforting. The red-haired woman lets herself be guided back to facing forward, and is immediately confronted by Weiss’ visage, the beautiful woman extremely close. “I’m listening,” says the goddess.

Ruby gulps, strangely feeling much thirstier than before, and this has nothing to do with the fact that she _still_ hasn’t gotten a drink. But she’s partially glad that her inner useless lesbian is being a distraction right now.

Carefully, she brushes the back of Weiss’ hand, pulling herself back to the present. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that…Yang gave up her childhood for me. She’s so much happier now, and she has a good life. She has you, she has Blake, she has the café and…me being here with all my problems is just going to ruin things. Me being here has already ruined things.”

Ruby screws her eyes shut, feeling that damn urge to cry build up again as she gives voice to the one truth that has plagued her for an eternity. “Everyone’s better off without me.”

There, she’s said it. There’s no taking it back. Her greatest flaw is out in the open and now her new friend has every right to and the knowledge that she should leave.

_Leave, before I break you too._

Gradually, Ruby feels Weiss’ touch draw away. The soldier knows that it’s the best thing for the heiress to do. So even though she can feel herself falling without that tactile anchor, spiralling downwards further and further into the depressive pit dug and deepened by her own hand – she lets Weiss go.

But suddenly, a new question halts her descent “Did you force her to?”

Ruby looks up, confused and very capably demonstrating it via her raised eyebrows and open jaw. “What?”

The scientist is sitting back on her heels, still physically very close to Ruby but her eyes are impenetrable and far away as she repeats herself, speaking nonchalantly and evenly, as if discussing the weather. “Did you? Make Yang do all those things that took care of you.”

“What!” Ruby lets go of her legs, letting them flop to the bed as she stares at her sister’s clearly crazy best friend. “Of course not, I would never – when, what, Weiss, _why_ would you ask that?”

“Because…” the white-haired woman’s eyes refocus, and they pin Ruby in place as her next words strike the soldier’s core. “If you didn’t want her to do it, and didn’t make her do it, but Yang still did it anyway…is it still your fault?”

Ruby’s mind races. Weiss’ question was preposterous. Of course it was her fault – if she didn’t have to take care of Ruby, Yang wouldn’t have had to give up her dream school, her old life, her freedom, her everything. Yang wouldn’t have had to grow up so fast and so alone. Of course Yang could have just left Ruby to fend for herself. The scholarship was a full ride including food and dorm and she could have just packed up and… …

_Oh._

Weiss touches Ruby again, this time her hand enveloping the younger woman’s (which was great and very useful because she’s quaking and trembling and she really did not expect to wake up today and have the realisation that a very big thing which she had thought to be fact and consumed her over the years might actually be _not_ ), and acting as a safe harbour. “Ruby. Ruby, please look at me.”

The soldier obliges, too numb and shell-shocked to think the action through. Which is why it is with the full up-and-close power of Weiss’ shimmering gaze that the heiress’ final words hammer home.

“You are not responsible for the choices other people make.”

Time stops. Ruby feels something break. Her vision finally mists over with tears and Ruby collapses against Weiss, shaking and bawling and exactly for what, she isn’t sure. It seems like once she stopped holding herself back, every single negative emotion that had collected over the past twelve years is swarming her at once and she can barely breathe. So she focuses on feeling. Focuses on the sensation of a long-carried weight being lifted off her shoulders, focuses on how the tightness in her chest and the darkness around her heart is disappearing. She focuses on crying, and feeling this new catharsis as it settles in, a little drop of white gold filling the gaping wound of years past.

The heiress is as rigid as a board, and would be a pretty terrible person to hug normally (and Ruby already knows this because this is their second hug and she really should stop hugging Weiss only when she says something emotionally profound). But…it’s her presence, which Ruby appreciates more than anything at this moment.

Eventually, Ruby’s sobs die down into soft hiccups, and her vice-like grip on her new friend loosens. Weiss, mercifully, doesn’t pull away until the soldier does so first, and thoughtfully heads to the attached bathroom to gather some tissues for Ruby to wipe away her snot and salt.

Limply, the red-haired girl cleans herself up, simultaneously noticing for the first time the creases worn into her clothes – the badge of how her fatigue had put her practically out of commission for the past week.

(She doesn’t feel tired anymore. Or rather, she does – but it’s the kind of tired that one feels when finally reaching home at the end of a long campaign, nothing like the usual apathy.)

A soft cough calls for Ruby’s attention, and it’s the soldier’s turn to be embarrassed as Weiss stands before her, hands clasped behind her back and pointedly looking away. The scientist is bereft of her suit jacket, and Ruby sheepishly realises it’s probably because a lot of her tears had stained it.  But the heiress starts speaking again before an apology can fall from her lips.

“Yang loves you, Ruby. She did those things for you because she wanted to. And since the moment you arrived she’s been trying to think of a way to help you. This is her choice, our choice, made freely and of our own will.

“So please, let her- let _us_ , work together from this point. You’re not alone.”

Even if Ruby were still inclined to disagree, the earnest way in which Weiss makes her proposal melts away the last of the ex-soldier’s concerns. Gathering together all of her used tissues and crushing it into a compact ball, Ruby gives Weiss a genuine grin and holds up her first bit of productive effort.

“Okay,” she breathes. She half-contemplates attempting to toss the ball into the bin like a three-point throw, but instead settles for acting like a real adult.

“Okay. Where do we start?”

Weiss smiles, clearly relieved and pleased with Ruby’s response. She then sweeps her long side-tied ponytail behind her shoulder, and places her hands on her hips, announcing her next sentence imperiously.

“Well, the first thing to do is to get you some food and water.”

Ruby’s stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud rumble at that decree, and the ex-soldier grimaces, picking herself up out of bed unsteadily. “Alright, I’ll go get changed.”

The heiress nods in agreement, then turns on her heel to leave the room, intent on giving Ruby some privacy. But before she leaves, Ruby calls her name, knowing that there is something she has to say.

“Hey Weiss,” Ruby smiles again when the heiress can see her, inwardly revelling in how she no longer has to force her facial muscles to do so, “thank you.”

Weiss snorts and click-clacks towards the door again, throwing her last words over her shoulder before closing the door.

“Don’t thank me just yet – we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

Still smiling, though now only speaking to an empty room, Ruby replies. “Alright…partner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things to end off this very long chapter  
> 1) Just a reminder cum clarification: everyone can be a false narrator.  
> 2) Weiss’ thinking process when she grabbed Ruby’s face, probably - “eye contact is important.”  
> 3) I swear this chapter wasn’t meant to be so long, it just…wouldn’t end. Hope you all enjoyed it!


	6. Lengths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Double meaning.

_Dear Ms Ruby Rose,_

_Please be informed that the Vale Institute of Health has received your referral from the Remnant Humanitarian Forces and welcomes you to our care._

_Your appointment time and date will be on Thursday, xx/xx/xx, at 0900 at VIH Level 2, Clinic B. Please call in at the contact number provided below before this date to confirm your appointment. If you are unable to make it at this time, please inform us as soon as possible and we will arrange for a reschedule._

_Thank you and we look forward to seeing you soon._

* * *

 

Weiss…doesn’t know how to feel. Much less act, for that matter. She had suspected that there was a psychological aspect to Ruby Rose’s discharge, but to see it written on paper makes things a little more real. It is more difficult to follow clinical practice guidelines than she had originally thought. Her last few statements to Ruby Rose had been spontaneous, and nothing like the prescribed steps.

But, Weiss muses, Ruby Rose has responded, so, however unorthodox, perhaps it would be prudent to continue this approach.

“How about we start from the beginning?”

Ruby freezes mid-chew, and Weiss chastises herself for being so abrupt. Insensitive, as well. They’re sitting in the soldier’s kitchen, the younger woman having sheepishly admitted that she had no groceries or beverages to offer aside from sharing her dusty army supplies. Weiss, having a rather refined palate, had declined, but encouraged the malnourished girl to ingest her fuel. And now she was interrupting her.

“Only if you want to,” she murmurs, looking away from the dark-haired girl. Yang’s sister’s eyes are shining, and Weiss is now acutely aware of at least one maelstrom behind them. She wonders if this will be too much, too fast, for the soldier.

 _Follow the books_.

Ruby swallows. She sets aside the canteen and shoves her hands into her oversized hoodie’s pockets.

“Okay.” One blink, then two, and a deep breath. “Can we shift back up to my room?”

Weiss forces her brow to smoothen out, relief that her blind attempt had not been in vain. But then she tilts her head, confused. Ruby chuckles, and reaches up to rub the back of her neck. “Yang always says that the hardest conversations have to happen on a soft surface. I think it was actually her way of getting me to go to bed as a kid, but…the habit stuck.

“Plus, well – I don’t really have anything else we can sit on, sorry.” Weiss scans her eyes around the apartment, and acknowledges this fact. The barren, impersonal state of Ruby Rose’s abode was not to be unexpected, given the state she and Yang had found her in. Seeing the logic in the soldier’s statement, she nods. Ruby smiles.

They put away the cutlery, and make the short journey up to Ruby’s room. Despite it only having been a half hour since they were here last, the gloomy atmosphere has lifted – partially due to the now open windows which are allowing in the twilight breeze, mostly due to the re-energized manner in which Ruby seeks to straighten her sheets before they sit.

“Sorry, I er- as you kinda know, haven’t really been keeping this place all that clean.”

Weiss shakes her head, and sits down on the edge of the duvet, crossing one leg over the other. “Understandably. It is fine, Ms Rose- Ruby.”

The soldier gives her a quizzical glance. Weiss hides her discomfort with indifference and a “casual” pat on the bed space beside her.

Thankfully, the dark-haired woman shrugs off the flub and settles onto the mattress, curling into herself, then readjusting herself to adopt a cross-legged posture. Opening herself up, both physically, and emotionally. Weiss, she should mirror Ruby’s actions. That’s the right thing to do, it’s-

“I’ve always been a little screwed up.”

All panicked thoughts of how unprepared she is for this fly out of the metaphorical window as Weiss hears Ruby speak. She finds herself transfixed by the melancholy in the soldier’s voice, unconsciously shifting to better face Ruby, and seeing the younger woman’s shoulders slump, before bravely straightening out.

“I told you before about my mom dying when Yang and I were kids, but what I didn’t mention was that…it was kind of my fault.

“We were out buying stuff late at night, because we wanted to celebrate Yang getting her scholarship and there wasn’t enough at home to make a big fire-dragon cake, and- and-“

Ruby closes her eyes, and the hands on top of her knees turn into fists, white-knuckled and trembling.

“I saw someone passed out in an alley. I wanted to help, so I ran over and Mom followed. But it was a trap. The guy jumped up and another pair of goons surrounded us and demanded our money and they had knives and clubs and it was really scary. Mom gave them her wallet, but it wasn’t enough, they wanted more, and then they grabbed me and mom shoved him off and then they grabbed her and Mom’s really strong and she can take three guys at once but I was crying and crying and she got distracted and one of them cut her arm and she lost her balance and she fell to the ground and they-“

Ruby’s voices ends off in a choke. Tears streak down her cheeks and she’s curled into a ball again, and for a moment Weiss can imagine the traumatised fourteen year old Ruby would have been. Trapped in that dark passageway of her mind’s creation, reliving the situation that she sees herself to have made. Before she knows it, her hands are over Ruby’s, and Weiss is once again close enough to feel Ruby’s shuddering breaths.

Ruby jerks slightly away, but she breaks out of her trance, and Weiss doesn’t bother to move away again. She follows her instincts and maintains the probably comforting proximity, wracking her brain for what the books had said regarding maintaining eye contact and non-verbal gestures of comfort such as hugging.

Yes, a hug should be appropriate.

Weiss wraps her arms around the other girl, and hopes that the motion isn’t actually as awkward as she perceives it to be. Hopes that it gives some help.

Ruby exhales, and looks up to meet Weiss’ eyes. Her sclera are tinged red, and her nose is snotty, but Weiss sees a bare smile twist her lips, and that makes the scientists’ flailing sense of being out of her depth worth it.

“Thanks, Weiss.”

A strange feeling flutters in her stomach at the shimmering in Ruby Rose’s gaze when she says that, but the scientist brushes that thought away. She lets go of Ruby Rose, sitting back to give her some personal space.

And to plan her way forward, because winging it was an extremely difficult task.

Ruby coughs, and her gaze turns distant again, but the heiress reaches out to grasp the soldier’s hand before she can spiral too far down. Ruby startles, but squeezes her fingers, and Weiss congratulates herself on making the correct move.

“I ran away after that. Mom was screaming at me to. I reached home, and told Dad. He called the police, and they rushed to the alley way but by the time they got there…Yang said that it was too late.”

Weiss feels her heart break a little bit. She’s heard of this story from Yang. In bits and pieces on Mother’s Day, when they crack open bottles of wine and commiserate over families which were less than whole. But this is the first time she’s hearing about the event itself in such full detail. And the way Ruby phrases it…it’s clear that the girl had taken the blame of the event onto her young shoulders.

“Dad and Yang always said that it wasn’t my fault. But, I guess I never believed that. And, when I saw Yang sacrificing stuff for me, and Dad wasting away…one thing led to another and I guess that’s where you could say that this whole doom and gloom part of me started.

“Ever since then, I’ve… I’ve always been trying to make things up to them. But it was never enough. What I did that night turned all of our lives upside down and I’ve known that for years. But, well-“

Ruby looks up at Weiss through her lashes, and the heiress sees that her irises aren’t just coloured silver. There are specks of black dotted throughout, and the effect is that of an inversed night sky – dark stars in a bright galaxy.

“What you told me just now was the first time someone’s made me think that it was okay.”

Weiss swallows, and now is a very unfortunate time for the veritable lexicon in her mind to draw a blank. Ruby Rose in this instant is _leaking_ sincerity, and something about that brings to mind Blake’s warnings about things becoming too close, too personal. It doesn’t help that there are elements of Ruby’s story that hit a little too close to home. Being a disappointment. Failing expectations. Being less than what others wanted them to be. She isn’t ready for this. The situation is reminding her of her fragile attempts with Pyrrha, which had quickly been abandoned and-

No, she can do this.

Weiss covers Ruby’s hand with her other, such that the red haired woman’s palm is now sandwiched between hers. The heiress masks her emotions with a practiced smile, and she gives Ruby’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you for telling me this.”

Weiss runs the tip of her tongue over her lips to moisten them, stalling while she attempts to determine what best next to say. How to broach a more recent event. Ruby, for some reason, blushes, but the heiress pays it no mind.

“Did a similar incident happen in Afghanistan…?”

Ruby opens her mouth, then closes it, and opens it again. She starts shaking and Weiss notices that her left hand is twitching and she knows from the hours prior that that is her burnt side. The memories are still fresh. Hence it would logically be more difficult for Ruby to speak about them. But her research had always expounded about the importance building on momentum, letting the other person set the pace and if Ruby didn’t offer to stop Weiss shouldn’t either. Yet, she remembers what she had concluded before.

Ruby Rose isn’t someone from the books.

None of this is.

She’s…relying on them, too much.

Weiss makes a small adjustment to her position so that now she’s holding both of Ruby’s hands. That seems to be the cue for the younger woman to start babbling again.

“I’m sorry- I know I should talk about it, and I want to and I trust you I’m just still kind of scared and it’s scary and I’m pathetic and I-“

“Ruby.” Weiss interrupts. Ruby shuts up and Weiss lets her words just flow.

“I’ve heard at least three different apologies in this past hour, all for things that aren’t your fault. I’m choosing to be here, Ruby. And you get to choose when you’re ready to open up.”

Unexpectedly, Ruby Rose’s eyes start tearing again, and Weiss panics. She nearly flails her hands about in an undignified manner before she hears Ruby’s quiet mumble.

“How are you real? An angel, both inside and out.”

The term “angel” causes Weiss to stiffen up, and an unbidden memory rises to the surface.

_It’s warm._

_She is warm. And loved. And in love._

_Pyrrha sits behind her on their bed and the Olympian is helping her girlfriend to adjust her crown-shaped tiara. The scientist is preparing to head off to her first official day of work as the new Vale COO, and Pyrrha is doing what she can to help her relax._

_Thoroughly enjoying the sensation of her lover’s strong fingers massaging her scalp, it is with great reluctance that Weiss turns and gives Pyrrha a grateful kiss, unable to delay her departure further with the clock ticking closer and closer to eight._

_Rising to her feet, Weiss thinks that she is about to leave, but a sudden tug on her sleeve makes her pause. She turns, and the towering Greek looks small. Fragile, even, with the bandages criss-crossing her legs and surrounded by stark white._

_“O ángelós…will you come home today? Sas parakaloúme?”_

_Weiss hesitates. Pyrrha never asks for anything for herself, and that fact alone is almost enough to make Weiss stay. But…it’s her first day of work._

_(_ And, _a bitter part of her adds,_ it’s not as if she’ll be doing anything more than mope in bed if you were around. _)_

_Her phone suddenly beeps, and Weiss pulls away her arm to view the notification on her watch. It’s a message from Klein, her secretary, informing her that the accountancy division wished for her to review their newest budget report. More responsibilities, more work, more sacrifice – these were things that came with her promotion through the SDC. Things she needed to do if she was to keep funding Pyrrha’s rehabilitation. To fulfil her promises, to Blake, to Yang, to herself._

_She turns back to her partner, and Pyrrha’s already spread a watery smile across her face, stopping the apology that had been about to pour out her mouth with a finger at her lips, which then reached up to touch the tip of her scar._

_“It is okay. You are a busy woman. Go save the world.”_

_Weiss tilts her head and kisses Pyrrha’s palm._

_“I love you, mein Ritter.”_

_“I love you too, o ángelós mou…”_

“How did you get that?”

Weiss snaps back to attention, and finds that she had been unconsciously tracing her scar. Gritting her teeth, she slowly brings her hand down, tangling it with its partner to stop any further errant behaviour.

Ruby raises her hands in a placating gesture, scrambling backwards. “Only if you want to tell me, of course. I mean, I’m not expecting anything. Just because I told you my story doesn’t mean you have to tell me yours and I fully get if it’s an uncomfortable topic for you and I’m sorry that-“

“Ruby. I told you to stop apologising.”

The soldier squeaks, and mimes zipping up her mouth. A childish gesture, for a woman who had gone through a lot while growing up.

It’s been years since someone last asked her that question.

Again, Blake’s warning about getting too close, too personal, echoes through her mind, but Weiss brushes it aside. Quid pro quo is a fair trade.

“It’s not an interesting story. A fencing accident when I was a teen, that’s all.”

Ruby’s mouth quirks, and the tension in her body eases out.

“Guess we’ve both got scars, huh?” she quips, attempting to lighten the dour mood.

Despite herself, Weiss smiles. “One could say that.”

Ruby and her stay like that for a while, and Weiss thinks she sees an aura of peace wash over the younger woman, who absent-mindedly plays with her blankets, then brings them up to her chin.

“You know,” Ruby starts, hesitant, “I’ve already thanked you once, but I just want to say again that…I’m really glad to have met you.” She lets out a breathless chuckle. “It’s strange, but even though we’ve only just met a few days ago – I trust you. And you’ve made me see something about myself that I’ve never seen before.”

Ruby blushes. “Sorry if that sounds weird.”

A feeling of warmth unfurls in her breast, and Weiss clutches tightly at her right fourth finger, feeling the empty space there. “I want you to trust me. I’m your friend, remember?”

“Yeah, the best friend I’m ever going to have.” Ruby emphasizes, eyes twinkling, before breaking off into a huge yawn. Weiss takes that as her cue to depart.

“Get some rest, Ruby. It’s getting late.”

The soldier opens her mouth, and Weiss pre-empts her response with a glare. Not like the books. “No apologies.”

Ruby rubs her neck again, and touches the heiress’ sleeve.

“Will I see you again?”

In that moment, Weiss sees another woman, with more red in her hair and green in her eyes. Her walls come up, but she still manages to inject kind meaning into a cold response.

“I did promise you a tour.”

The silver-eyed girl smiles, and lets her hand drop, not catching Weiss’ tone and content to stay in bed as the business woman once again walks out.

In the intervening minutes between that moment and her return to the penthouse, Weiss clears her mind of other distractions. Places the past back where it belongs. Focuses on the things achieved today, and finds herself…satisfied.

A glorious, giddy smile spreads across Weiss’ face. Had she been a person with less emotional control, she would be jumping for joy at this occasion. Ruby Rose trusts her. She’s successfully advanced from just being her sister’s friend!

Out of habit, the heiress turns towards the penthouse’s master bedroom – ready to barge in and gush about her social achievement to her fiancée and…she stops. Remembers that this is just a reflex. No one but the scientist herself stays here now. Not a shred of Pyrrha’s clothing, not a single one of their exchanged gifts. They’re all long gone now, given to Blake to hide in some unknown place under lock and key.

It was the recommended way, to help her move on. And she’s done it.

So all she does is clutch her bare fingers together and close her eyes. She’s…never been a believer of prayer, but faith was something that the Amazon had followed and preached.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, mein Ritter. I’m trying to be better now.”

Straightening up, Weiss marches towards her shelf, already reaching for the set of well-thumbed books on the bottom shelf and knowing what chapters she should re-reference.

She can’t lose sight of her goal. Her objectives. Her steps.

This time, she’s going to do things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, so – I’m back! Sorry for the really long wait, life crept up on me and projects started piling up, and I actually have 4 different versions of this chapter which went completely off track. But, hopefully this is up to mark.  
> Thanks for the support! Please do let me know what you think!
> 
> Terrible Google translations:  
> “mein Ritter” = German for “my knight”  
> “o ángelós mou” = Greek for “my angel”


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